


Parasite

by Psaack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, F/M, Hermione Granger-centric, Luna Lovegood is a Good Friend, Minor Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Vampire Hermione Granger, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27482641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psaack/pseuds/Psaack
Summary: Terrible things happened during the war, information that Hermione was forced to hide as best she could. However, the return to Hogwarts won't be exactly as peaceful as everyone expected after the Dark Lord's fall. There are other threats lurking in the night, and their intentions are menacing the wizarding world.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Severus Snape/Other(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Breaking point

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, good evening, bon appétit.
> 
> As you know, I am coming back.
> 
> These last two years as you can see, a lot of work has been removed and the reasons are simple: I didn't like my own work anymore and let's say I had lost a lot of faith in this fandom so I didn't want to feed it anymore.
> 
> The reason for this is that for more than a year now I have been hanging around an international SSHG group where very few francophones are present (there are 2 of us out of a hundred) and in this group extraordinary things happen every day that give a hell of a hype but who knows why, the francophone groups are mute, neglected and outright abandoned. So it broke me a bit to make this sad observation while on the other side people are having fun and continue to create around the Snamione.
> 
> So with Karine-F, we decided to give a big kick and to found a group as lively as Hearts and Cauldrons. We are very moved to have succeeded in bringing people together and also sad not to have found the courage to do this earlier. All this to say that I am extremely touched by all this love for the ship and that we finally managed to unite a very nice community.
> 
> So much for the handkerchiefs, now let's get to the heart of the matter.
> 
> Let me introduce Parasite, it's a fiction I've been working on since August 2019 in secret, only Karine-F read the premise. This fic is going to be long, very long and I am far from having finished writing it. So I'm taking advantage of the hype to relaunch myself and propose something a little bit new outside of my recently rested warmed up OS.
> 
> Keep in mind that English is not my mother tongue so all suggestions are welcomed !
> 
> Thank you all for your support, thank you for your reviews, thank you for the hype train. See you again!

Poppy Pomfrey slept tight-fisted.

It was just the kind of quiet night she liked to spend.

Not a runny nose, no flu, no broken bones from the last Quidditch game, no, everything tonight was perfect and for once she could enjoy the quietness of her apartments next to the infirmary.

The Hogwarts matron had been entertained by the fire for a long time with a Muggle medical booklet about new, modern techniques for curing illnesses which her students were not about to contract anyway. The witch youth of Britain were unfairly much more resistant than the Muggle children.

So, this Saturday evening she went to bed with the greatest satisfaction in the world.

Nothing to report...

Until four o'clock in the morning.

The school nurse almost woke up startled when a flash of bluish light, a cat, landed like a night guardian at the bottom of her bed.

She blinked successively, trying to take focus on the blurred sleep she was struggling to get rid of.

Poppy, once drawn from her dreams not without a reproving moan, rose on her legs like a spring after having recognized Minerva's Patronus.

She covered her feet with her small stuffed slippers and covered herself with a fleece dressing gown not without forgetting her wand placed wisely on the bedside table.

She moaned a few unintelligible words and then went to the infirmary with resignation.

It was rare that she was summoned between a Saturday and a Sunday, usually the slightly lazy students always managed to get sick on a weekday, or even on a Sunday evening, in order to have an extended break, and then never during the vacations, except perhaps for the unluckiest ones who had misjudged their sporting abilities or their alleged omnipotence in the face of magical germs.

Without realizing it, she continued to pester all her little ride. What student had dared to pull her out of such a sweet, restful sleep? She was already missing her soft pillow.

When Poppy pulled the curtain on her desk, a certain restlessness that had not waited for her presence to manifest itself, drew her out of her reverie.

Minerva was there and the Weasley son with her.

-" Oh, for heaven's sake Weasley, how many times do I have to tell you not to overeat or you'll have a liver attack? I wonder." The nurse grumbled, but the director's serious expression immediately made her change her gaze.

Ron stepped aside without even apologizing at all. He knew that she used to see him for particularly trivial things like the aforementioned, but this time the youngest of the redhead’s boys did not even flinch. He did not even have that livid look he usually had when he was sick.

It was only when he moved his strong mass that the matron noticed the hidden presence of Gryffindor's Prefect in Chief, sitting on a bed, shaken by a chopped breath.

-" Miss Granger?" she asked, frowning.

-" She sent me a Patronus to report her distress, but she was unable to say anything intelligible." Said McGonagall, who was in a state of torment.

Poppy hastily stepped forward and placed her hand on the witch's forehead, a reflex gesture.

She was cold.

Hermione was shaken by spasms so violent that she made the wheels of the bed on which she was sitting squeak.

-" By Merlin, this girl is frozen! Where did you find her?"

-" In her room, of course!" The headmistress wondered.

\- "Weasley, you know where the kettle is, so get some hot water ready." ordered the nurse.

The boy executed himself like a soldier standing at attention before his captain.

-" Do you sleep with open windows?" asked the nurse in astonishment to the witch's attention.

The young woman could only deny frantically from the head, trembling like a leaf. Mist was coming out of her nostrils.

* * *

With Ron behind her, the Head of Hogwarts stepped on the stones of the hall, laboriously climbing the steps back to the Gryffindor Tower.

They stopped once or twice along the way, the young prefect behind her dared not say a word about the general state of tiredness of his supervisor.

Sometimes out of breath, Minerva held the railings. Tomorrow will be a better day.

They had left the young woman to her fate, buried in a quilt made of goose feathers, under the benevolent eye of the nurse -"Mr. Weasley, please return to your room and try to get some sleep." She said between breaths.

-" Yes ma'am, I'll go back to the infirmary in the morning."

-" Oh, you know, it's no use, Poppy's got it under control and Miss Granger can't be her first flu." she replied with a light smile.

He answered with a nostalgic nod before venturing into the darkness, the light from his wand gradually fading away and finally being swallowed up by the ambient night.

Gathering her courage and climbing the last steps of the floor dedicated to her apartment, Minerva took her time and headed for the private room of her little patient.

No teacher needed a password and so she simply waved the board open without flinching.

Holding her wand firmly, the old woman suddenly felt caught up in the freezing cold inside the room.

With a simple wave of her hand, she set the hanging candelabra alight and noticed an unusual shudder, a facet of the Granger girl that was completely out of her mind.

She stood there for a few seconds, glaring here and there with astonished eyes, and finally turned her attention to the window that had been opened. With a disapproving pout, she slammed the window with a spell. The Granger case had now been solved and tomorrow morning she would go and give her best pupil a sermon.

* * *

No sooner had Ron opened his eyes at first light than his first thought was to get up and get some support in the next bed.

Harry was still sound asleep, enjoying the Sunday morning quiet.

Slowly, Ronald sat on the side of his best friend's mattress and, his eyelids still numb, he fluttered for a moment before placing his hand on the survivor's shoulder without a word.

The boy with the ebony hair inspired with half a protest, the other half was still in his dreams or residual nightmares.

A dry breath announced to the redhead that he was gently waking up. After long seconds of waiting, the young man finally groped his bedside table to find his glasses.

When Harry took stock of his vision, he fell into his friend's worried glare, with almost the same post-war exhaustion. Had he even gotten some respite since then?

-" Ron, what are you... What time is it?" Did he just have the strength to grumble?

\- "It must be half past eight... It's just that it's... Hermione is in the infirmary." Said the Weasley cadet with his usual tactfulness.

Harry jumped on the mattress and barely got up to see if the clock was right.

-" What happened?"

-" Nothing serious, she just caught a cold, I think."

* * *

The two young men left in a hurry and walked to the hospital wing on an empty stomach.

The accumulated fatigue of the last few months did not help the two friends' condition at all. Since the war, sleep had become such a precious and terrifying commodity that the very idea of rest no longer even crossed their minds.

Every time they closed their eyes, the visions returned, incessantly, obscuring a heavy part of what seemed to be healing and comforting.

They knew that the same was true for Hermione, however, they could not know how much, as she had her own apartments and, above all, was alone, isolated, screaming in the emptiness of the night, left to her own demons.

So, with a fleeting step they almost ran, even for a simple cold.

When they passed the alcove of the infirmary, there was silence again. Their footsteps becoming discreet, they walked, their eyes glued to every empty bed except the one at the far end, right next to the matron's desk.

Already at this hour, Poppy was awake, or at least, struggling not to go back to sleep. Ron looked at her from top to bottom. She was still dressed in her nocturnal attire.

The deepened dark circles of the healer made her bulging eyes look even more threatening than usual. Her gaze was raised on those who dared to disturb her patient's rest, or at least, perhaps her own as well.

-" You fell out of bed?" she mumbled with a grimace.

-" Actually, we wanted to see how Hermione was feeling this morning." Ron replied, all his confidence gone.

-" Well, she's still asleep, gentlemen, come back later."

A quick glance from the boys at the peacefully sleeping silhouette suggested that perhaps they could loosen up and head for the breakfast that awaited them a few floors down.

* * *

Hermione finally awakened from her sleep on the twelfth stroke of noon.

When she awoke eagerly, she glanced from left to right and found the nurse completely collapsed on her scrolls.

Discreetly, she slipped off the sheets, took her slippers in her hands, and made a quiet way in the opposite direction, towards her dormitory, taking care not to cross any living soul.

Her eyes were burning, with the fleeting sensation of having an anvil in her skull.

At least she was getting the satisfaction of a good night's sleep. Perhaps the first since she had set foot on this school.

Even though Hogwarts was her home, she had not had a good night's sleep since meeting and becoming friends with Harry Potter.

The war should have eased all the tensions they had endured during those eventful years, and yet there were still those echoes that struck them, residual pain and scars that would probably never really heal.

Thanks to Merlin, at least after Poppy's decoction, Hermione seemed to detect traces of a soothing potion and perhaps even a dreamless sleep philtre, the effects of which unfortunately dissipated as soon as she opened her eyelids and found herself in a room bathed in a blinding glow.

At least she had slept well, and that was a first to be recorded in her memories.

So, it was with a discreet step at a time when everyone was supposed to be in the refectory that she returned to her room. She would send a note to Poppy and Minerva to thank them and at least save them a lot of worry when the nurse discovered that she had deserted the place she was supposed to be. Even as an adult and responsible for her actions, she still had the decency to at least warn her guardians.

However, things had been going wrong for some time, and she had become aware of this last night.

If the problem had really been identified on her part and totally ignored by the healer, there were only a handful of hours left before others would notice and the news would trigger a cataclysm that she could not fully assume.

The following Monday, Hermione showed up for class without having bothered to go downstairs for breakfast beforehand.

Since the previous evening, having recovered and after being lightly sermon the young woman had been hiding deeply at the bottom of her bed after she had been summoned. It must be said that even being responsible for herself, the note sent to the two women had not enchanted them. Harry and Ron had insisted on accompanying her at least to the infirmary, even though this closed-door interview had kept them out of the reach of the women who apparently had little to say except to give the Prefect a gentle slap on the wrist. Perhaps for once in her lifetime, Hermione had been unreasonable and had therefore drawn attention to herself?

Harry and Ron, for their part, had noted the enigmatic expressions and attitudes of their lifelong friend. The flu must have had a significant effect on her behaviour, yet she seemed distant, even withdrawn.

* * *

At eight o'clock, she had presented herself most naturally in magic history class, ready to be knocked out by Britain's dullest teacher.

She took her usual place near Luna while carefully avoiding crossing her gaze with that sparkling ray of sunshine that was right in the path of her head.

Without a word, or even a warning, the young woman moved her bench further away, away from the Ravenclaw who raised an eyebrow without even formalizing. Poor Luna was accustomed to this kind of action against her person, even though coming from Hermione the gesture had a stranger, even bizarre scope.

Nevertheless, the blonde listened with one ear and scratched her parchment while her senses remained focused on the brunette behind her, who had all the characteristics of someone who was in full discomfort.

The class passed and the radiation of the star with it, continuing its inevitable course.

Today, one could not say that the studious Gryffindor was at the peak of her health, or even of her glory.

She could feel the eyes of her lifelong accomplices, worried looks on her while for once, they were trying as best they could to follow this course worthy of a stunner.

Her blood hammered her temples. Binns' monotone voice was buzzing in her skull. The breaths of others around her were spreading a painful chaos.

Every sound, every image became unbearable and then the light burning her retinas made it seem as if she would go blind any second.

She wanted it to stop, to return to nothingness or at least to the quietness of the darkness under her blanket.

Hermione was entirely out of focus, disconnected. Her limbs went numb and nasty tingling went up her fingers as if stung by an army of red ants. In a desperate impulse, she darted Luna a few inches in front of her, and as if she had heard her call for help, the Ravenclaw turned around almost immediately to see the pallor and the terrified look in her fellow's eyes.

It was only when she was rescued that Hermione allowed herself the luxury of fainting.


	2. Breaking news

Severus Snape entered Grimmaurd Place without a hitch.

No charm here had been renewed for a very long time, and no cleaning had had to be done since the Order had last met, judging by the amount of dust floating down the corridor. In fact, what shocked him the most as soon as he stepped through the threshold of the door was the putrid smell of a rotting body.

As soon as he had walked into the house, he felt like vomiting and his eyes fell on a shapeless pile on the floor, just at the bottom of the stairs. There was a large sheet, turned yellow by time, covering something, gathered in haste.

He would have bet his entire next paycheck that Kreacher was under it, or at least what was left of him, and that his emaciated carcass had only just been discovered. In any case, one could easily guess the movement of the scavenging beasts masked by the simple modesty of a sheet.

He also heard the muffled cries of the Black mother making a racket from the second floor. It seemed to him that she was looking for attention to holler at the people coming into her house.

He did not need to know any more. Just being here was enough of an exhausting chore to deal with problems he did not want to solve. He also did not want to know how long the house elf had been dead and how long it had taken him to be covered in this way today.

As the Moon was at its highest in the sky that evening, he had slipped out of Hogwarts as a result of a note he received between shifts from the headmistress urging him to report to the location he had once, always, considered as enemy.

He did not drive away the disgust in him, he could not do it anyway, and everything was worthy of the hatred he had for this edifice.

When he entered the dining room, the high place of the quarters of the ancient Order of the Phoenix, he never shown his surprise when he found the eyes of a whole assembly staring at him.

Once again, he was the last to arrive and everyone seemed to be waiting for him to begin this extraordinary meeting that was to speak ... What was it about?

Oh yes, of course...

The note did not even mention it.

There were so many people here that some of them had managed to stand on their feet.

-" Severus, at last!" Minerva said.

The headmistress had red eyes, a livid face. Decomposed was a fitting term for the feverish state she was showing.

The man raised only an eyebrow, wondering if he was the cause of this masquerade, judging by the looks on their faces.

He prevented a backward movement when he met the gaze of two Aurors surrounding Kingsley, the Minister for Magic.

What had he done now?

What was reproached to him?

The Weasley parents, Tonks, and Lupin, the two Aurors and the minister, a white coat of Saint Mungo's, Potter and Weasley, another secondee of the ministry, Flitwick, Sprout and ... Two strangers?

His brain burst for a moment, trying to gather himself in front of what was for him an incomprehensible scene.

His gaze lingered on these people who were staining the scene. Perhaps Aurors undercover.

A woman and a man, much older than him.

She had thick hair, hidden in a bun that did not discipline anything, and he, a man in his fifties with clean-cut dark lighted hair. The only thing they had in common, apart from their perfectly matched wedding rings, were red eyes and the same facial expressions as Minerva, anxiety.

He did not, however, explore them and kept his usual reserve.

-" Minerva?" he asked with the tip of his lips.

He remained standing, confronting the crowd without even batting an eyelid, while everyone was just waiting for his presence, and apparently the hostilities had already begun, given the deplorable state of some people here.

The golden boys seemed relatively discreet for once and instinctively, he found strange not to find their usual support, but he knew that the Granger girl had been with Poppy since the morning. Hallway chatter ran very quickly through the school.

Another anxiety came back to him when he had finished analysing.

Did this little world finally want to send him back to Azkaban?

His rehabilitation was short lived...

-" We are... We have a major problem." Began the headmistress with a jerk in her voice.

The potion master remained trying to guess what might be going on.

-" The Grangers." Kingsley presented cutting short the questions of the man in black and to compensate for Minerva's lack of eloquence. "We brought them here to explain the situation in specific terms... Behind me, Mrs. Fubble, my collaborator in charge of humanoid regulation." He spoke in his most concerned voice.

Snape bowed his head, out of courtesy, and reviewed all the plans he had in mind. So, the strangers were simple Muggles, not undercover infiltrators. A new tree of possibilities sprouted in his mind and no scenario could foresee anything good. He had listened to Kingsley with great attention, detailing every cleverly used word. If the headmistress was talking about a major problem and the politician had not denied it and needed to explain it to the Granger family, then perhaps there was something to think about.

\- "Can he do anything?" Mrs. Granger's quivering voice ruffled the leaden silence and then a slight whisper was heard right next to her.

-" Miss Granger... Hermione is currently in Saint Mungo's since this afternoon... For the past few days, she has been having frequent discomforts, strange behaviour, and this morning during a class with Professor Binns, she fainted." Repeated McGonagall.

He kept his verve to himself, but deep down, everyone could fall asleep under the soporific verb that was this bloody ghost mixed with a sleeping pill.

However, Snape, thoughtful, met Fubble's gaze, a remarkably conventional witch in her fifties. He frowned and tried to pierce the wall of unfathomable blackthorns that refused to accept him. He had met her before, or heard of her, and it seemed to him that she held an important position, one that Umbridge herself had coveted for unclear reasons.

-" I am aware of this, Headmistress... However, it is not necessary to gather a whole defence council for something as simple as a panic attack. " Snape replied coldly.

The Granger mother let out a spasm, an uncontrolled sniff as her husband's helping hand grazed her back in an ultimate gesture of hiding the sparks of despair that his own body showed, that and the murdering glow against the potionist who once again seemed to minimize everything.

-" According to the mediwizards, which is still on file, Miss Granger was bitten." announced the minister.

-" Bitten?" Repeated Snape. There were a thousand ways to get bitten, especially at Hogwarts.

-" Hermione would be a neophyte." Said the headmistress, devastated.

The questions hammered into Snape's skull, canalizing all his control so as not to shout and shake everyone's nerves. Since when were they tiptoeing? In order not to offend her parents? Nonsense.

-"Headmistress, let's get straight to the point, please." he sighed as he pinched his nose. The causal tree in his head was already out of branches, he thought he had reached the top.

But the headmistress was unable to speak single word.

The exasperated Slytherin gazed menacingly at the audience and it was then Lupin who had the guts to announce the terrible news.

-" A vampire neophyte." He let go, feeling that he was losing his patience.

The potionist's face showed nothing but a brief glance at the headmistress. At the mention of the word, Mr. Granger began to sob.

-" How long has it been?" He remained bitterly factual.

-" We don't know." Confessed the lycanthrope.

-" You don't know..." Said Severus, whistling between his teeth. "Do you have any idea how much time we've wasted?" He roared

-" Severus..." Murmured Kingsley in a threatening tone with a heavy gaze. "Barnes, Davies, please escort Mr. and Mrs. Granger home. Please trust that we will do everything we can to clarify the situation." He promised, however, without a perfect politician's smile. His tone was meant to be reassuring and yet there was a broad undertone implied by the words.

* * *

Sprout and Flitwick had escorted Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley back to Hogwarts, who had also left so as not to overwhelm Filch and the other professors with the supervision of the castle. The atmosphere was awkward, and this small committee was already beginning to wear out Hogwarts' Deputy Director, who had taken a seat as far away from the others as possible.

Only Shacklebolt, McGonagall, Tonks, Lupin and the Weasley couple remained.

Molly had boiled water and presented tea bags ready to use, lacking the time and means to do so.

Dead silence had set in again, but like a caged lion, Snape broke down and accidentally spilled his cup as he violently struck the table foot with his knee, causing everyone around him to jump.

-" Why weren't we informed about this before!" He grumbled, unaware of the pain in his leg.

-" Because Poppy was only able to unseal the problem this afternoon." Minerva confessed.

-" Is that all? It has been reported to me that your student had a short stay in the infirmary last weekend. You dare to tell me she didn't see anything?"

-" It is true! Poppy is a school nurse; she treats commonplace cases like we see every day and I would ask you to lower your voice!"

-" You don't understand, nobody seems to understand the situation... Maybe it's already too late." He spoke in such a deep voice.

\- "We still have to find a solution. Miss Granger has to maintain balance and a normal life." Attempted to defuse the minister.

Snape let out a grim laugh. Kingsley raised an eyebrow explicitly asking for more.

-" The solution is all found... Do you know how dangerous this represents for the school? For the other students? For the teachers? For the staff?"

-" Hermione must continue to live like any young woman of her age." Said Minerva, implacable. "We must help her."

-" No offense again, but it seems to me she'll have eternity to think about it." He ironized. "We have to stop it."

-" So, what do you suggest?"

-" Hogwarts cannot afford to host a night creature in its midst. Once was too much." Said the potionist before giving Lupin an insistent glance, full of innuendo.

Remus frowned, clenching his jaw ostensibly before releasing a significant growl.

-" If your subtle hint suggests that I'm a monster, don't be embarrassed and get to the bottom of it." Snorted the DADA professor.

-" Take it for granted." Snape sarcastically let go.

-" That's enough." Attempted to pacify Nymphadora absently, in vain.

-" All right, well, then what would be the solution for you?" Asked Remus already ready to unravel the subject here and now.

\- "There's this thing, the sun. »

-" Severus..." Gnarled Minerva as a last warning.

-" Are you aware of its existence? " Provoked Remus again. The full moon was not long ago and his aggressiveness with.

-" Remus!" Despite his wife's protests, the werewolf stood up and Snape imitated him in a single gesture of anticipation.

-" I'll take a walk outside and, in the meantime, I'll watch the Granger girl literally burn in sunlight without the slightest remorse."

-" BY MERLIN SEVERUS!" The headmistress and the minister bellowed in chorus.

-" Is that how you deal with your problems? Do you try to eliminate them as soon as you get afraid?"

-" After your time at Hogwarts, your rehabilitation and your exclusion from it, everyone knows it's not healthy to keep bloodthirsty monsters within its walls." Snape spat.

Without waiting any longer, the lycanthrope's fist came and cracked the Slytherin's nose.

The potionist partook his wand, but before he could do anything, Kingsley disarmed him with a graceful wave of his hand, while on the other side, Tonks pulled her husband by his jacket, causing him to fall back to his chair.

-" Will you never grow up?" Howled Minerva. "Severus, your comments are totally unacceptable, and you know it!"

The man did not say a word, too focused on his new pain and the blood rushing to his ears at full speed. Thank God, for once he wasn't bleeding.

-" We're civilized people, we have to move on." Calmed the minister.

The looks between Remus and Severus were murderous, the atmosphere to be stabbed through. If those two had been dogs, there was a good chance that they would bark at each other relentlessly until one of them rolled over on his back in a sign of submission, and it could not be said that that evening Snape was at the height of his charisma. However, he had his words, his reflection and nothing, not even the danger of another fight seemed to hold him.

\- "There's nothing to go on, sooner or later Miss Granger will no longer be able to be contained, she will taste human blood and get a flavour for it. She will kill innocent people to satisfy her survival instinct. Stop living in the world of nice fairy tales for children, wake up and face the truth. Hogwarts isn't adapted to help contain her anyway, it's crowded all the time, the classrooms are not protected from the light and she'll be cold."

-" But... I want to preserve her. I will if I have to!" Spoke Minerva.

Snape turned eerily to the Headmistress.

-" I don't want to denigrate you... Look at you, you're getting older, your reflexes are getting weaker, she will manipulate you to get her way. How can you keep the school going if you must take care of a neophyte all the time? How do you want to protect her? One day you will wake up dead, freeze-dried." He gnashed between his teeth.

The headmistress' gaze left an immeasurable fury. Her trembling hands around her cup of tea betrayed her state.

Yet she knew, deep down she knew that this was nothing more than a warning and that Severus wanted to protect her. However, his implacable and swift words were a stab in the back, not only for her but also for Hermione.

-" I may be old but I still have my mind and if I remember correctly, it seems to me that the only window in the dungeons outside of the classroom is the one overlooking the black lake, isn't it?". she asked with a pinched pout.

-" You don't think of sticking her to my Slytherins? That would be letting the wolf out in the sheepfold, and anyway, the water is lit on a clear day." He tried to defend.

-" No, that's not what I was thinking. Since you seem so enlightened on the subject, mature, in the prime of life, a perfect spy, and in the throes of a thousand reflexes, you're the one who's going to stick with it. As soon as you get back, I want you to start cleaning out your apartments. Miss Granger will move in when she returns from Saint Mungo's, whether you like it or not. »

Snape's terrible eyeing gave a chill to anyone who could see the criminal glow that was lurking there. However, he could say nothing, nothing beyond his thoughts once again, and certainly not to the headmistress in front of the Minister for Magic.

\- You will take your quarters in her apartments; you will make a standard exchange. I am sick and tired of this day. How can you? I ask you, Severus, how can you denigrate her in this way after all that she and Potter have done? »

As the others were squeezed into their respective chairs, caught up in McGonagall's violent wrath, Snape held her gaze. The headmistress was on the verge of mental exhaustion and her only weapon now were threats and the fear that they would be acted upon.

"And if you touch a single hair from her head, I promise Merlin that your final resting place will be the shabby cell we pulled you out of a few months ago.... Minister, may I have your support?" she sighed, tired of having to go to such extremes.

The potionist's gaze darkened, his black orbs releasing sparks of fury towards the woman who was his friend. She was gunning him in the foot, or worse, signing the entire school's death warrant.

-" Severus..." Kingsley began, but the man swept the air with one hand and stood up angrily. He dryly retrieved his wand still in the politician's hand and quickly left the place, his cloak following him in his furious footsteps.


	3. Abandonment

Remus went down the steps to reach the undergrounds of Saint Mungo’s.

From his childhood memory, he could not reach the morbid memories that had led him here, it was a scheme of his life that he had consigned so far into the depths of his brain's that he had had to be told the way.

He noticed a strange atmosphere in these hallways, more than anywhere else in the hospital. The staff was absent, or at least not as agitated as on upstairs levels.

The grounds and walls were darkly painted, even the colour of the tile joints was dirty, but the thing that struck him most was the lack of light.

He could see well enough not to accidentally walk into someone, though.

He let out a noisy exhalation, something to give himself a bit of self-confidence and above all the courage he needed to go deep inside himself in order to get through this first step which he believed would be one of the most difficult.

His footsteps were leading him heavily towards where the reception had told him to go, he could hear the echo of his weight against the tiles, but also his soles cracking and perhaps his own heart beating wildly as he could swear that it had been ripped out of his chest too many times.

It was not normal.

It was not at all pleasant.

He stopped in front of room 08 and knocked.

A faint "Come in" just a little higher than necessary to resonate through the door gave him permission.

He did so, and once inside, he saw a darkness like a moonless night, the one he cherished so much. Only a small candle placed on the bedside table was enough to light just two meters around her.

-" Hermione?" he asked in a soft voice, trying his best to hide his discomfort.

All he heard was a scratching on the ground a few meters away. He took out his wand and incanted a Lumos, but even before he raised his arm, he was immediately interrupted.

-" Turn it off!" he heard in the same place.

-" All right."

The little he had managed to see gave sufficient clue to locate the young woman.

She was sitting in one of the corners of the room, on the floor, knees curled up on her chest and her arms around her like a foetus to protect herself.

But from what?

-" The doctors said you could have visitors, so I came to see how you were doing." He tried to say with a bit of cheerfulness in his voice but deep down in his vocal cords the fracture was still too pronounced.

No response.

He stepped forward tiptoeing after another exhalation, gathering all he could find of peace within himself.

-" I thought you might like to see some people."

-" You shouldn't stay." he heard. The young woman's hoarse voice suggested that she was crying or in a sufficiently emotional state to have lost her usual tone.

-" You know... Staying in your loneliness won't make things better. Sooner or later you're going to have to go out and get on with your life." He knew that she would not want to hear it anyway, however, he had to give her the directions.

-" But how do you want? How do you want me to get on with my life? I am... I'm a..." Hermione stopped in the middle of her sentence, as if she had just struck herself.

-" Monster?" He finished.

Again, silence and then she cowered further with a sigh.

-" This is not... I'm sorry."

The words had escaped her, out of her mind, and she had thought only too late of what her involvement might make Lupin hear.

But Remus did not tighten up. The habit of being hard on him had begun as a child, and above all, Hermione had not thought badly of him. This thought was directed against her, not him.

-" The only monster is the one who did this to you, not you." He said. A statement that had been running through his head for many years, like a mantra. So, it was with a regained confidence that he had told her those words.

-" You well know that people won't differentiate, sooner or later they'll know, and they'll want my head on a spike... Unlike you, I don't have a treatment available to alleviate the pain of my... It's not once a month, it will be every day... I've waited too long." he heard.

Hermione had also worked on her repartee for a long time. For a week she had been wandering around this sinister dungeon of St. Mungo’s, and nothing, absolutely nothing, had distracted her from this new burden that she was going to carry with her until the end of time or, with a little luck, until her life was cut short. Then there she was, prostrated, annihilated to the point of refusing what few kinds and encouraging words she could hear.

\- "There is still hope." He tried to reason, but without the necessary conviction to escape the anguish that was going through both now.

-" You can assume not. I feel all these changes in me, I feel my body transforming day after day... Before I knew, I had doubts but now that I know, I see, I feel, it's all I can think about. "She sobbed.

Lupin approached and knelt beside her, he dared to cross the barrier that the young woman had erected against him, and the Gryffindor in him could not stand such a terrifying defeat.

He searched for Hermione in the dark and contrary to her words, her body language spoke for her. She reached out her hand where Remus' hand hung in the air. She missed human contact outside of the nurses far too much and even a simple little embrace could make something inside her again.

Lupin clung to her warm hand so forcefully that he heard the witch's knuckles creak, but she did not flinch, returning the same enthusiasm.

-" No matter what happens, you can totally survive."

-" Remus, survival was no longer an option after the end of the war. I just wanted to live... Not survive."

* * *

Snape's migraines took over all the tasks he had to perform, wherever he was. His exacerbated irritability was giving his students a hard time. While most decided to ignore this, a small handful showed concern and others were very afraid of him.

In recent days it had not been uncommon for him to dismiss his classes earlier, to sit in his seat to read a textbook, and for a lazy, enchanted chalk to simply write the lessons on the blackboard for him.

It had been three weeks since the bad news came and Minerva wanted to see him regularly to ask him questions, to plan schedules that could be adjusted, to see what she could do to make Hermione's life easier, as she was still in the hospital.

No matter what he did, in any case, he was forced to do it. He had taken an oath before Dumbledore years ago. Today, even though the head of Hogwarts had changed, he still had to remain faithful to Minerva, who had never been his enemy before. Quite the opposite.

The Headmistress and the Head of Slytherin would see each other in the evenings, sometimes in the company of the other two Heads and sometimes alone.

That night, they were alone with Granger's ugly furry cat.

Minerva, in her heart, could not let the half-kneazle wither away from his mistress for so long.

The two old companions were weary, sitting around a cup of light tea. Even though all the comforts of the world were at Hogwarts, their tension became unbearable as the days went by.

The potionist had an annoying tendency to rub his temples from time to time, and McGonagall knew what he was getting into.

-" Are you hydrating enough?" she asked.

-" The proof." he grumbled as he stared at his cup.

He hated it when old Gryffindor played mother hen, no matter how good she was. He could feel the sermon coming towards him, but she did not, leaving him to fend for himself, as he preferred.

-" She arrives in two days." She remembered, her voice trembling.

-" Are you ready?" he asked with a concerned look.

-" The real question is, are you ready?" She returned playing nervously with the folds of her hand.

Snape let out a sigh, almost a grumble between anguish and annoyance.

-" I've planned restrictive equipment." He simply said, ironically.

-" Severus!" she blew in outrage.

-" You don't know... No, you don't know what it's like to face a..."

-" Don't say that word!" She cut it vigorously. For any answer, a painful grimace split his face.

Yet that word was all that could come to him. The trauma of seeing himself die twice in the shrieking shack was just two more things in his life that he had to face. The evils he had caused, the whole turn of his life after that incident were directly related to that very moment. Repeatedly, the key chapters of his dull existence returned in waves every night, in his nightmares, every day as he performed usual tasks.

He would never forget Lupin's gaping jaw ready to pierce his entrails and eat his flesh as he agonized.

Nor would he ever forget the bitter taste of his survival that night and, above all, who was behind it.

As an adult, he had made himself a promise never to face this kind of singularity again.

And yet...

-" I continue to think that this is a terrible mistake and a danger one could afford not to accept. Dumbledore used to spice up, in a way, the life of the castle by letting anything and everything in... But now... Why do you do such a thing?" he asked academically.

-" Because it' s Miss Granger." She confessed with a long sigh.

-" An excess of favouritism!" He refuted.

-" And because these are also values, we instil in Hogwarts. Helping others, being compassionate. Helping the neediest."

-" It sounds more like a Gryffindor formula." he grumbled.

-" I don't care Severus! Who knows what would become of her if she was left alone in the wilderness?" The headmistress got angry.

-" It's not my problem." He let go softly.

Minerva's jaw tightened.

-" It is the business of all the Heads of Houses. How can you be so selfish..." she murmured rhetorically.

-" Wanting to avoid a new danger to our students is not a question of selfishness. Please use common sense, for God's sake!" He got carried away, his teeth bare like an old mutt ready to attack.

-" In any case, the time for debate is over. We are committed not only to the ministry but also to her and her parents." She cut short this argument that threatened to escalate into violence and name-calling.

Severus knew he had lost. He had known for weeks, and yet he could no longer mask the angst of the approaching deadline.

* * *

-" These are your quarters. I have not moved anything so please keep your hands in your pockets. No visitors allowed, no rearrangements, no frivolity. You will be able to use the bathroom as you wish, it seems to me that you even have access to the prefects' bathroom as ordered by the headmistress. If you need something specific, you have the right to call an elf. There is quick access to my office in case of extreme emergency only. It goes without saying that my cupboards and furniture are protected and that if your hands were to be tempted to quench your curiosity, not only would I know about it, but a powerful spell will inflict a burning curse on you. Do you have any questions?"

In the middle of the night, Hermione had only just arrived in this dark part of the dungeons when the scene was already set. Filch had escorted her and her little bundle.

The young woman had not said a word, not even to greet the squib when he had picked her up at the edge of the forest, at the school gates with a small diligence.

No sooner had she been dropped by him than Snape opened his door and recited this text, which seemed to have been learned almost by heart, repeated over and over again and each word meticulously chosen.

She was not home here, even though Hogwarts was her second home.

The potions master took a step backwards and unwillingly invited the young woman into his own inner circle. The pout on his face and even his hesitant gestures were a clear indication of his unease, if one listened closely one could even hear him screaming internally.

Without a verb, she moved forward with an erased shyness, more a mark of respect. It was clear from her face that she was not happy to be here.

The Gryffindor's first reflex was to check the lack of windows, as she had been promised. Once her fear was reassured, she still stood in the middle of the living room. She analysed the corners of it, and her attention was drawn to the presence of a fireplace in front of a sofa.

This is where she would sleep and there was no question of envisaging anything else.

A few sections of the stone walls were covered with the so-called protected libraries and Hermione found it cruel of Snape to have deprived her of a potential source of distraction. After all, perhaps he had some rare books, and she would understand.

He went around his own apartments opening all the doors.

\- "Here bathroom, there the bedroom and there the passage to the laboratory. The bedroom wardrobe has been emptied; you can put your things in it. As for your school equipment, there is plenty of free space in the secretary's desk between the two libraries." He pointed to a small piece of furniture with a chair dating from Methuselah. "From now on you are under my responsibility, so you will be at the same rhythm as the Slytherins, with the difference that soon you will change your time schedule. With Ste Mungo’s we are already working on the elaboration of treatments to delay... The unavoidable." He said with a solemn tone.

Hermione no longer cared. She had had almost a month to meditate on her condition.

Snape finally stopped moving around and stood away from her, near the back door leading to the lab.

-" Any other questions?" He asked with a haughty nose.

She denied again.

-" Good. If we finally found a way to shut you up, bless it." he mumbled.

The witch blinked successively, reluctant to be overwhelmed by her anger. It was all passivity now.

He approached her in measured steps.

-" One more thing... Your wand, please." He reached out his right hand waiting for the artifact.

Hermione sighed inwardly with resignation. McGonagall had already informed her of this, and she had consented to it after a tumultuous turmoil. Now she simply fulfilled her part of the contract. Until the morning, she would not have her wand, and so it was.

However, handing it over to Professor Snape was like stabbing her in the back.

She handed the object to him not without an alarmed look that he preferred to ignore if he had seen it at all. Immediately, it disappeared into the depths of his frock coat pocket.

Without a word and without further formality, he turned his heels and took the laboratory exit.

Hermione stood there, long seconds looking around her at this unfamiliar place. Her lips moved as if she wanted to speak, but for whom now?

In any case she laughed at the idea that she had succeeded in dislodging the worst teacher at Hogwarts, but now she was the bat of the dungeons.

A rub on her leg startled her.

She didn't shout but let out a light scream before lowering her head and seeing the presence of her cat who must have been there from the beginning but had wisely waited for the potionist to leave before finally letting go.

She wallowed on the ground, taking her feline fully in her arms and buried her head in the ginger coat. Soon, her features of pure ecstasy turned into a painful grimace and tears came to slit her white cheeks. When she felt that her companion had had enough of being drenched with cries, she calmly put him down on the ground and then he settled between her calves, coming to lick every drop falling from her face. This simple friendly gesture was enough for Hermione not to know how to close the valve that had opened wildly.

Now she was almost left to herself.


	4. Nothing ever changes

Around ten o'clock the next morning, McGonagall allowed herself an unscheduled visit to Snape quarters, now those of Hermione.

She entered the relatively austere and darkened lair by way of the chimney.

The headmistress found the young woman asleep on the sofa in front of the still glowing hearth, wisely wrapped in a fluffy blanket and a pillow under her head. It seemed to her that she had slept here.

No sooner had Minerva stepped over the threshold of the fire than the Gryffindor opened her eyes by instinct. She reflexively looked for her wand under her pillow before remembering the events of the previous day, preventing herself from uttering the frustrated growl that was coming from the bottom of her throat.

-" Please don't tell me you slept here, my dear." said McGonagall a bit bewildered by the scene she saw.

Snape had never applied for renewal supplies. Almost everything here had been in the same condition since he took office.

He was very careful with his stuff, but the fabric of the sofa was getting dusty and tarnished by age.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and collected herself before getting into a more suitable posture.

This was the first time she had dealt with the headmistress since her arrival in these quarters, which were conducive to her development. She fully understood that when she had disembarked the night before, Minerva had most likely been sleeping like any reasonable soul in that castle.

The dean's gaze could be read in a certain form of joy at seeing her favourite cub back in perfect shape, at least on the surface. However, she said nothing about it and the two women found complicit glances in each other before Hermione spoke again.

-" Yes, madam, it's the warmest place in this habitat." She admitted shamefully.

\- "All you had to do was ask, we can set up an oil pan in the bedroom, you'll ruin your back that way." Worried the old one.

-" Neither my muscles nor my bones will be upset by the slightest change from now on..." The young woman let go a little bitterly.

Minerva pursed her lips before swearing inwardly.

-" That's right... Excuse me." She implored before sitting on the stone ledge of the hearth.

-There's no harm in it, I'm not yet used to it myself... I still have human reflexes." Mumbled Hermione.

-" You are human! Not everything is lost, you will find them again." Reassured the headmistress. Her denial was much more pronounced than in Remus' voice. Moreover, if there was denial then it was well hidden behind a thick layer of determination.

-" You know yourself that the odds are too small, if any." Hermione replied in a tone so factual that it was almost frightening. She was perfectly aware of her condition. Her look at her surrogate mother, however, was more eloquent, concealing a help that no one could give her.

-" Don't say that..." The Animagus began to whine. " We must stick to the facts and see the cup half full ... How do you plan to handle this with school life?" She tried to change the subject.

Hermione sighed heavily. The question was a thorny one, especially since she knew that sooner or later her life would change completely.

-" For the moment, I prefer to maintain the status quo. I've never been very popular here, except maybe since the war, but... Most of the time people only like me because I'm friends with the one who defeated the Dark Lord... I prefer my classmates to find out as late as possible. Maybe the question won't even arise if the next symptoms come after the exams end." She crossed her fingers to illustrate her wish and Minerva could only frown.

-" I really hope so Hermione... You certainly don't deserve this." Just a barely perceptible dent crushed the director's voice, but she soon straightened up. It was important that she didn't show her own frailty. "Anyway, you know the faculty knows, the ministry knows, and we are all on your side.

The younger woman stifled a laugh through her nose and smiled ironically.

-" I'll ask Professor Snape again if he's really on my side." she laughed nervously. So nervous that her leg began to twitch in anticipation.

Minerva chuckled and swept the air with one hand.

-" If this jerk gives you a hard time, I'll personally take care of him."

\- "He's in the right, after all, I kicked him out of his house."

-" Note this Miss Granger, here I am the boss. The well-being of the students comes first. It will not kill him to move into a windowed apartment. I'm still in charge!" She tapped her foot on the floor.

The door of the laboratory opened at that very moment and the two women stopped laughing, perhaps a little too late.

Snape stood in front of them with a circumspect look on his face.

In his youth he used to have people stop talking when he showed his presence, and he knew exactly what was going on.

Minerva, not a fool, immediately made up for their sudden lack of eloquence, while Hermione put her feet back on the ground and found an even more suitable position in the presence of the potion master.

-" Was it a good night?" the dean asked the man in black, not without a touch of that sarcasm that was so precious to her.

-" As good as reliving that disgusting nostalgia of having a squeaky box spring and a cardboard mattress, headmistress." He replied with a grunt before his gaze fell on the person behind all his troubles.

-" Memories not so far away, it seems to me you've seen much worse...". She said.

The dark glance he gave her made Hermione turn away, out of embarrassment. She noted the dark circles around his eyes.

For any answer he grumbled something in his mouth before taking a vial out of his pocket. He put it on the coffee table between the young woman and the Headmistress.

-" Could you give us a moment?" He asked to Minerva's attention.

Hermione curled up on herself, frozen with terror. She recognized this type of vial and knew that she would soon have to take responsibility for her treatment.

McGonagall stood up without prompting and addressed her cub.

-" Remember what I told you my dear. Help at Hogwarts will always be given to those who need it."

The witch nodded.

-" Headmistress, I wanted to thank you for that and for... For Crookshanks

She gave her a knowing smile back and Snape rolled his eyes. This mawkishness was definitely not his cup of tea.

It was not until the chimney tinged again that he spoke, probing the young woman alone in front of him.

-" Do you know what it is?" he asked, pointing to the vial.

For any answer Hermione nodded nervously.

-" Well then you know what you have to do."

The young woman proceeded, trembling with apprehension. She raised her hair in a tight bun to free her neck. She turned and lowered the collar of her pajama top.

Snape sat down next to her, as far away as possible, and took out of his other pocket a sterile syringe.

-" Why isn't Mrs. Pomfrey handling this?" she asked timidly.

He pierced the lid of the glass vial and sucked out the yellowish contents.

-" Yesterday the Hufflepuffs struck hard and reduced Gryffindor's team to a flabby bunch of babies crying for their mothers." He replied with mischief. Even though it was not his house and even though he wasn't fond of sports, he loved to bring the Gryffindors down to nothing. The music in his voice was always the same. The war had no real effect on his deepest nature. Snape was and remained the bastard of yesteryear and even worse since he had escaped the clutches of death.

\- "Was there a game yesterday?" Hermione asked.

-" Did you think I was talking about botanic?"

She answered nothing, looking straight ahead, feeling her skin pinched almost at the root of her shaggy hair, behind the medulla oblongata. She took a deep breath, as much to chase away the scathing words of her guarantor as to give herself a little courage.

-" It' s done." He said.

She frowned and tilted her head very slightly.

-" What? Have you already stung?" She wondered as she came to rub the spot he was supposed to have treated. She felt a slight abnormality in her skin.

-" I'm not a failure, Miss Granger."

-" But... I didn't feel a thing."

-" What do you mean by that? Obviously, you do not have... What do you mean?" He wondered.

-" In Saint Mungo’s, when they stung me, believe me that the pain was there!".

She turned around as if looking for an appreciation in the icy gaze, but the door remained closed. He did not want to prevaricate.

-" And we are surprised that nobody ever goes there. Mrs. Pomfrey gave me painless needles." He justified. "No wonder, they're torturers." He spat without stretching his thought. " You will have your wand Monday morning before your first class, in the meantime don't damage my property and make sure your fleabag doesn't scratch the furniture."

She gave him back an obscure look that he had pleasure in mocking with a simple blink of an eyelash.

-" Also, I would appreciate it if you could spend some time outdoors. I still have work to do here and I would like to keep you out of my way. Get some fresh air, enjoy it while you still can." He replied in such a weary tone that she thought she was going to jump down his throat and eviscerate him.

Gathering her composure, Hermione took a long breath and then a mutinous smile.

-" These are my apartments now; I have the right to use them as I please."

Snape raised an eyebrow, surprised by the witch's unprecedented repartee, and then erased the astonishment from his face, giving way to distorted features of bitterness. She continued to support his irritating glance with defiance.

-" Get dressed and get out of here. Do whatever you want I do not care. Go see Weasley. A good open fracture might have put his mind at ease."

Like a fury, Hermione rose to her feet, moved towards the room with a heavy and determined step.

* * *

By the time she left her new apartments, Snape had slipped away, but there was no way she would be left to endure his usual pettiness. She walked on the slabs of the dungeon, trying to get out as quickly as possible and return to the surface as if she were suffocating.

At least for the time being the treatment greatly limited the negative aspects of her condition, but she knew that it was all temporary.

Outside the sky was gloomy, this October was conventional, cold, and wet like every year. Nothing ever changed in Scotland.

She climbed the stairs, passing students from all houses in street clothes, just like her.

As she passed, people moved aside, others looked at her as if she were a living curiosity and others came directly to check on her. The war had changed her classmates' perspective on her person, but she would not fall into the trap of this sudden celebrity.

Many knew that the young woman had been ill, at least that was reported. So, it was crucial that she did not show anything, that they didn't perceive the changes that were taking place, even though now there was nothing to see. She was stable.

The hospital wing was crowded. Snape had not lied a large part of the beds were assigned to Gryffindors, very few Hufflepuffs.

When she walked in, Harry noticed her immediately and then looks followed.

Ron laid down with a bandaged leg in the air and gave her a warm smile, chasing away the grimace of persistent pain on his face.

-" Mionne... I didn't know you were back." Cheered Harry with disconcerting enthusiasm. He came up to her and took her in his arms in a wild, wild, oversized embrace.

The arms fell down along the young man's side, she had not had human contact for so long. Pearls of tears came to moisten her eyelids and then she gave back the strongest embrace she could, surrounding the neck of the survivor.

-" How do you feel?" He whispered.

-" Good, I feel good." she confessed.

She forgot Snape's hurtful words. The little Harry gave her was more than enough to make her feel better, but she focused on not letting her emotion overwhelm her completely.

She parted from her friend rather quickly, with a shy smile, and looked at Ron.

-" So, broom accident?" she asked.

-" No, it's that idiot Smith who sent back a bludger at a bad angle, I'm going to tear his eyes out!" The ginger spat.

-" The giggler hasn't finished hitting, I see." Hermione chuckled.

-" Ha-Ha." Mocked the young man.

She was about to get closer when Poppy came up to them with a bottle of Skellegrow.

-" Oh, Miss Granger, welcome back? Good timing. Did you get your treatment?" she asked in a low voice.

For any answer, the young woman nodded not without making a grimace, thinking back to her last exchange with Snape. Painless physically but mentally destructive. Nothing ever changed at Hogwarts.

-" Good. Mr. Weasley, you're going to have to take another dose and start rehabbing if you want to be on your feet Monday morning." indicated the matron, shaking the bottle in her hand.

The young man looked disgusted. Harry was gagging. Although he was not injured today, this potion had been giving him nightmares since his second year. Just the smell alone could make him vomit without further ado.

Pomfrey poured the solution into a glass and handed it to his patient. Ron turned pale so quickly that the roots of his hair contrasted beautifully with the rest of his skin. He was almost green, on the verge of returning his breakfast as well.

Hermione perceived the infamous fragrance in turn and her nose wrinkled as well.

Ron, however, bravely armed himself and without sniffing, trying to forget the function of his taste buds, he swallowed it all in one gulp and after a complicated gulping, a cracking sound was heard at his knee. The redhead shouted.

Harry stepped back. It was not the first time all day that he had seen his friend in excruciating pain. The smell of the potion and his distress almost made his eyes twitch. He, the boy who had survived.

Twice.

Then the bandage turned red.

Hermione instinctively stepped back but could not take her eyes off the pool of blood dripping from her friend's knee.

Poppy did not look alarmed. According to her, everything was normal until she looked at Ron's two mates and saw Potter and Granger pale, but not for the same reason.

Then the Hogwarts matron realized she had made a mistake.

The lioness had her eyes glued to the blood, hypnotized, trembling, she bit her lip.

-" Potter, Granger, take a walk outside!" she exclaimed almost in an authoritative tone.

It was not until Harry put his hand on Hermione's shoulder that Hermione came out of her trance.

Shamefully, she let herself be guided and turned her heels faster than her friend.


End file.
